


Chronicles of an unexpected sentiment

by adlerty



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 09:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1465075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adlerty/pseuds/adlerty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by Thirty Seconds To Mars' song titled <em>The Race</em>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. "It began with an ending."

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Thirty Seconds To Mars' song titled _The Race_.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winning and losing are not such different things.

The night seemed to get darker and darker with every step he took. With his hands in the pockets, the collar of the coat hidding his face and his piercing, blue eyes fixed to the cold ground, Sherlock Holmes walked, but did not even know where his feet were leading him. He could even bump into some stranger in the street, surely that would not make him lift his head to look where he was going.

 

His mind would not stop thinking, and even he agreed that it was tedious. He wished it would stop, because what those thoughts carried along with themselves were nothing more than feelings that he was not very willing to allow them to flood his mind, nor his heart. Frustration, guilt, sadness, rage; feelings that could be summed up in one question:

 

“ _What have I done?_ ”

 

And then, he found himself sitting on her doorstep, smoking, in a night where he was supposed to feel victorious after beating her. That was why, when she opened the door and sat quietly beside him, he felt even worse.


	2. "We were fighting for the world."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty's web is not something easy to destroy, and two heads are better than one.

His ears were buzzing. He was trying to maintain his breathing steady when another blow threatened to break his jaw. He quickly ducked and tackled the man who wanted him dead. And then a torrent of punches left the assassin unconscious. Sherlock stood up and sighed deeply. He had been fighting for, approximately, thirty minutes and, truth be told, he had started to get tired.

 

After a couple of minutes recovering strengths, Sherlock proceeded to look for what he needed. He had started to throw books and picture frames from the shelves when a tight grip surrounded his neck, strangling him. He tried to get rid again of him, but soon he was immobilized on the floor. A shadow appeared behind the man, and the next thing he knew was that the killer lay dead over him.

 

Irene kept her gun, helped him to stand up and started to wander around the messy room. He did not bother to reproach her she was late. He just watched her taking a book and grinning.

 

“The bastard had good taste,” she claimed.


	3. "My desire never ending."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Punishment for the wicked ones.

She was wearing one of his shirts. _Again_. He looked at her petite frame above the papers and smirked. She looked definitely lovely with his clothes on. She took a sit opposite him and stared at his perfect features. He tried to concentrate on what he was reading, but it was impossible with her observing.

 

“ _Thief_ ,” he purred lowly as he left the papers over the coffee table.

 

She bit her low lip as she spread her legs a bit, an obscene gesture that was totally sensual if was her the one who did it. His eyes narrowed as he saw that she was wearing a pair of his boxers too. Irene smiled as she stood up and approached him. He looked up to her beautiful face and caressed slightly the bare skin of her thighs. Their eyes were flickering with lust and hunger. She bent over, her face at the same height of his, and started to kiss his lips softly. A moan escaped from his throat.

 

“Are you going to punish me for stealing your clothes, Mister Holmes?”


	4. "The race. The race."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New beginnings.

It had not only been a long day, but also a quite funny one. First they had sneaked into Mycroft’s study at the Diogenes Club because he needed some information and she just liked to misbehave. On their way to Baker Street, Lestrade had called him and gave him a case that it was not worth his time – the detective solved it in less than a minute. Irene had had him over his desk once they arrived at 221B and they had been too loud that Mrs. Hudson had to abandon the flat. Now they were lying peacefully on his couch.

 

He still had his shirt and trousers on, both of them unbuttoned. Her tight skirt was uplifted around her waist and, of course, she had no knickers on. Her fingertips ran across the red marks her nails had left over his torso and his errant hand caressed her soft legs.

 

They both knew that she had to return to her flat, but it was late, and he was not willing to let her go. She did not complain.


End file.
